


On My Knees

by CaseyBenSullivan



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blow Jobs, Community: kink_bingo, D/s, Established Relationship, Fanart Welcome, Kneeling, M/M, Oral Sex, Podfic Welcome, Vanilla Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:57:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyBenSullivan/pseuds/CaseyBenSullivan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mikey surprises Frank during a LeAthermouth concert, Frank ends up doing something he doesn't usually do on his knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On My Knees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lucifuge5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/gifts).



> Written for Lucifuge5, who won the bidding for fiction by me on the [Fandom Helps](http://fandom-helps.dreamwidth.org/1506.html?thread=59874#cmt59874) challenge on Dreamwidth this February.
> 
> Thanks to [weekendgothgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendgothgirl/pseuds/weekendgothgirl) for beta-reading.
> 
> Also written for [Kink Bingo 2012](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/). This is for the Vanilla Kink on [My Kink Bingo card](http://caseybensullivan.dreamwidth.org/3228.html).

Frank's throat is raw from screaming, his fingers aching with how tight he's been holding the mic. His entire body is so sore it feels like he's been on the stage for days, even as his mind insists he just stepped onstage moments ago.

The reality is somewhere in between; one hour, maybe two, but Frank's so lost in the performance that it doesn't even matter. He could keep going for hours or he could pass out right now. Either way, this is one of the best highs money can pay for, and he doesn't even have to pay for it. The only price he pays for this high is his own sweat and blood.

He's about to launch into a new song when a shock of bright yellow hair catches his eye. Frank's stomach does the usual dip and then twist, adrenaline rising at the thought of Mikey and subsiding when, as usual, he remembers that Mikey's in LA and this is just another scene kid with blonde hair. That's the only downfall of this tour: not having Mikey with him.

When he looks again, though, it really _is_ Mikey. Frank's sure of it. It's the second glance that never lies, the one that never makes him think it's someone that it's not. His stomach _really_ twists this time, the roar of the crowd fading as he narrows in on the sight of Mikey and that soft smile everyone thinks is a smirk. Mikey's eyes are warm and dark, his pale skin bright as a beacon in the low lights of the club.

The screech of feedback makes Frank snap back to reality, but he doesn't catch up as quickly as he should. An awkward silence has fallen over the mosh pit. Dozens of pairs of eyes peer at him in the darkness. Frank feels like he's fallen out of time.

It's the shimmering staccato of the high hat that finally brings Frank back to himself. The rest of the gig is a total fucking blur, because all Frank can think about is Mikey. Mikey, somewhere out in the crowd, watching him lose his shit because that's what happens when club owners have the bad judgment to give him the stage for a night. Because if he doesn't, he'll tear through the crowd until he finds Mikey and pushes him up against a fucking wall.

He scans the crowd, mentally rights himself, and then launches forward with a scream that surprises even him. The kids cheer and the drums and guitar pick back up and Frank gives them what they want: a fucking good show. He lets himself forget about Mikey, because that's the only way he can concentrate. He wouldn't have lasted so long as Gee's sexual sidekick in My Chem if he hadn't learned that little trick ages and ages ago.

The rest of the show is great: Frank is bursting with energy, the kids are ecstatic, and the band is on top of it. Still, something's missing, knowing that Mikey's out there and he isn't touching Frank _right fucking now_. So Frank tries not to rush through his set, but he doesn't do a very good job of it. He just hopes he's doing a good enough job of hiding it.

He's the first one to leave the stage, which is rare. But even rarer is to see Mikey while he's in the middle of a tour that's not with My Chem, and he's not going to miss a single second with the man who owns every part of him, heart and soul. He's already making mental plans for the night, thinking about what to order for room service and wondering if the pillows will be comfortable enough for him to kneel on while he and Mikey catch up, Mikey's fingers running through his hair.

Frank runs a hand through his sweaty hair as he makes his way back to the dressing room. His phone's with his stuff, so he has no way of finding Mikey right now unless Mikey finds him. It's just as well, he guesses. This way he can change and shower and make himself presentable before he and Mikey meet up.

With all this running through his head, it's no surprise that he's caught off guard when he walks in the dressing room only to be shoved face-first into a wall. There's no panic or fear, though, like there would have been a few years back before he and Mikey started playing together. His brain registers Mikey's scent and the distinctive shape of Mikey's fingers around his wrists before the fear can even set in.

That doesn't mean his heart isn't racing. He might know who it is, but that doesn't mean he was expecting it. The rush is thrilling, the way his heart races and his muscles tighten, preparing to fight.

Frank laughs softly, though, easily overcoming the fight-or-flight response that comes so naturally. He relaxes, leaning into the solid support of the wall, letting his body go limp as Mikey presses up against him even more firmly. He can feel the restrained strength in the way Mikey's holding his wrists behind his back and leaning into him from head to toe. Frank lets down his guard completely, sinking in against the wall and letting Mikey hold him up. Mikey is his strength in moments like this. He's not quite sure how he survived the touring life before he and Mikey got together.

"Missed you."

Two words breathed beside his ear make Frank melt a little more. He nods his agreement, turning his head slightly so their faces can be closer, even if he's pressed too tightly to the wall to even attempt to kiss him.

"You too."

Frank practically _feels_ the smile that flickers across Mikey's lips at the words, and he smiles back, letting his eyes drop closed in contentment. What a great fucking way to end an intense concert.

"Been too long," Mikey murmurs, loosening his grip on Frank's wrists. Frank keeps his arms where they are, though, crossed behind his back, until Mikey moves them to his sides and turns him quickly around. Frank sucks in a breath as he's pushed back against the wall, blinking up at Mikey through sweat-wet strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead and eyelids.

Frank just nods. There's nothing he can say that comes close to showing how he feels. Instead, he acts, sliding down the wall to kneel at Mikey's feet. It's been way too long since he's submitted to Mikey. Taking instruction over the phone just isn't the same.

The breath Mikey takes is loud and shaky, and makes Frank look up when usually he'd keep his eyes down. Not because they have an eye contact restriction - they don't - but because he likes waiting for Mikey to ask for it. To tell him to look up. To guide him in what he does, all decisions melting away and being left to Mikey.

"Yeah." Mikey breathes the word out, like he's agreeing with something. Frank glances to the side when he sees Mikey's hand move, then closes his eyes and hums happily when Mikey runs his fingers through his hair. This is what peace feels like, resting his forehead on Mikey's thigh, Mikey's long fingers stroking gently through his hair. Frank sighs in contentment. It's been way too fucking long.

The door flies open, bringing with it the cacophany of the venue. Frank's head whips to the side, eyes narrowing in irritation at being interrupted during this rare and peaceful moment.

Frank doesn't recognize the guy standing at the door, although he gets the feeling he works at the club. The guy's eyes flicker from him up to Mikey and back again, and before Frank can worry that they're going to get kicked out, the guy puts up an apologetic hand and backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Frank stares at the closed door for a second, then bursts out laughing as he rests his head back against Mikey's thigh. Above him, Mikey chuckles and pets his hair, asking "What?" as they laugh together.

"He probably thought - thought I was sucking you off," Frank says with a laugh, twisting his head to look up at Mikey. Mikey laughs too. "Fuck, thank God for vanillas."

"You know," Mikey says after their laughter trails off, "that's not a bad idea."

Frank sobers up pretty quickly. He's intrigued, even though that's not usually what he gets on his knees for. He usually blows Mikey when they're sitting or lying together. That's not to say he can't blow Mikey like this; it's what most people would assume, and probably what most people would do. Frank's intrigued.

"Oh yeah?" he asks. He doesn't nuzzle Mikey's crotch or look down to see if he's hard, even though he's curious. He's focused on Mikey's face, his expression. A twitch from Mikey's lips or eyes can say so much. "That what you want?"

He can see that Mikey's thinking about it. There are a lot of reasons not to do it, mainly because they could get caught. They're too well known to risk someone taking a picture of them like this, and if the guy at the door recognized either one of them, chances are he'll be back. Maybe with a friend in tow.

Frank takes a deep, calming breath. It doesn't help. Now that the idea's in his head, all he wants is to suck Mikey off. His mouth is practically watering with it. But it's just not a good idea.

Mikey seems to think so too. His hands fall from Frank's hair and he takes a step back. Frank sighs, disappointed, stringy hair falling into his eyes as he drops his head between his shoulders.

He goes still when he hears the telltale click of a lock. When he looks up, Mikey's smiling softly at him, hand still on the doorknob. Frank swallows - shit. This isn't over. Not by a long shot.

Silently, Mikey pushes away from the door, unbuckling his belt as he walks. Frank's eyes catch on Mikey's fingers and stay there, watching him work the belt buckle with the same ease he uses to pluck the strings of his bass when they're on stage.

"So, you think you're a big star, Iero?" Mikey's unzipping now, still walking toward Frank. "Too big of a star to suck my cock?" Frank raises an eyebrow, amused by Mikey's idea of dirty talk, but he doesn't laugh. Mikey's impending cock is too tempting. Mikey pauses and furrows his eyebrows. "You okay with this?"

Frank laughs softly. "What, the cheesy porno lines or me sucking you off?" He grins when Mikey rolls his eyes. "I'm good with all of it, baby. Get over here and let me suck your cock."

"Hey, don't forget who's in charge here," Mikey says, growing serious again. Frank's sarcasm disappears and he's suddenly intent on Mikey's hands again, and the patch of skin revealed as he pushes his briefs out of the way to pull his cock out. 

Frank licks his lips and leans forward eagerly, almost forgetting himself for a second. Is it really possible that they can combine D/s and blowjobs?

"Look at me."

Apparently so. Frank sits back on his heels and looks up, remembering his place. He's the one here on his knees, to do what Mikey tells him to do. The thought makes his cock twitch. And to think he was expecting to end the night playing video games with the guys and passing out in a pile of potato chip crumbs.

Mikey strokes his cock as he walks closer. Frank watches as it hardens in his hand, glistening at the tip with precum. He resists the urge to lean forward, but he can't help licking his lips. He could swear he can taste Mikey on his tongue already, even though he knows it's just sense memory, aided by the smell of sex as Mikey comes to stand right in front of him. Mikey's hard cock is right there, in front of his face, but Frank forces himself to look up and meet Mikey's eyes. This isn't just any old blowjob. Mikey's in charge, and Frank has to wait for permission to do anything.

"Tell me why you deserve to suck my cock," Mikey says. His voice is soft, but only in the sense that he's not speaking very loudly; the uncompromising control is still there in Mikey's voice, putting strength and command into his words. Frank hesitates, trying to guess what answer Mikey's looking for. "That is, if you do deserve it."

Frank blinks. This isn't a game they've played before, but Mikey's giving him the chance to try it. Humiliate himself, maybe? Beg, say that he isn't worthy, offer to prove his worth with a good blowjob? All viable options, but not ones Frank wants to indulge in.

Finally, Frank relaxes as the answer comes to him. This isn't about him; serving Mikey is never about him. It's about Mikey. So Frank is confident as he looks up to offer his answer, his self, to Mikey. He's still hungry for Mikey's cock, but that's not what it's about this time. It's about so much more.

"I don't know if I deserve it or not," he answers honestly, and settles comfortably back against the wall as he watches Mikey's face, gauges his reaction. He's very aware of his body right now, especially the way his boot heels are pressing into his own ass, the way the ground feels solid under his aching knees and the wall is cool against his back. Frank shifts, folding his arms behind himself, crossing his wrists at his lower back. "But I - I know that you do, especially after you came all the way out here just to see me." Frank smiles crookedly, his eyes bright with how thankful he feels for having Mikey here with him now after going so long without him. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you being here?"

It seems to be the right answer, even as Frank can see the struggle in Mikey's expression. He knows Mikey's holding back from saying all the cliche things he feels and the mantras they've all heard from his brother over the years - sex isn't currency between people who love one another, and certainly isn't necessary for showing thanks. There are other ways Frank could do that, like snuggling up with Mikey while watching a horror movie, or getting him coffee, or holding his hand. But as true as all those things are, this is still a scene. The normal rules don't apply. That it goes unspoken doesn't mean they both don't know it's true.

"All right," Mikey finally says, reaching down to thread his fingers through Frank's hair. He gets a good grip, pulling Frank forward, his cock tapping Frank's cheek as he gets closer. Frank groans happily. "But you better make it good."

As if he knows any other way. Frank shifts his head just a bit to get a better angle on Mikey's cock, and when Mikey doesn't stop him, he takes Mikey's cock in his mouth and moans around it. Mikey tastes so good, so salty and so _male_ , that first taste of precum sharp on the back of Frank's tongue.

Frank takes his time, relearning the shape and weight of Mikey's cock against his tongue and filling his mouth. It starts out as a standard blowjob, Frank only using his mouth, but it's not long before Mikey's tugging at his shoulders, telling him to use his hands.

"Mmm," Frank murmurs agreeably, and eases his arms out from behind him. He slides his hands up Mikey's denim-clad thighs, feeling the muscles clench and flex under his fingers. Frank strokes Mikey's thighs soothingly before moving his hands up to push Mikey's jeans down, freeing his balls so Frank can hold them in his palm. With his mouth on Mikey's dick, one hand on his balls, and one hand circling the base, Frank's in heaven, worshiping Mikey's body with every touch.

"Frank," Mikey groans, leaning forward, trapping Frank against the wall. "Fuck, Frank." The anticipation builds for Frank when Mikey starts to thrust, cautiously at first, and then more confidently. Frank closes his eyes and falls into the rhythm of it, feeling and smelling and tasting everything Mikey's doing to him while his own cock throbs uselessly in his pants.

Mikey's breathing stutters, his hands leaving Frank's head and it sounds like he's bracing himself on the wall instead. Frank braces himself, too, for the faster, harder thrusts, the ones that inevitably follow such a move. His mouth is watering, drool gathering under his tongue and dripping down his chin and over Mikey's cock, mixing with precum that's steadily tasting stronger and stronger on Frank's tongue.

Moaning, sucking, Frank grips Mikey's hips, nails digging in as he pulls Mikey in and encourages him to fuck his face. It doesn't last long, just a few stuttered thrusts before Mikey's coming, cum filling Frank's mouth and spilling past his lips. Mikey stands above him, panting, for a moment before pulling back, his cock sliding free of Frank's mouth to slap wetly against his thigh.

Frank rubs his face against Mikey's other thigh, using it to wipe the wet off his mouth. Above him, Mikey chuckles softly, and he's smiling when Frank looks up to meet his eyes.

Frank watches Mikey's face hopefully, but Mikey's eyes twinkle with other ideas. "Get me cleaned up," he says, kind but commanding at the same time. Frank nods, more than happy to do so, and pushes himself up from the floor, pausing with a groan when his muscles protest and his bones creak. He's thinking about the contents of the room, planning which way he'll have to turn to get a towel and then a bottle of water, but before he can move, Mikey's trapping Frank against him in a hug.

Frank grins and nibbles at Mikey's neck, making him laugh breathily. They both pull back at the same, Frank's arms slipping around Mikey's waist, Mikey's hands coming up to frame Frank's face. No words are spoken, but Mikey's expression says all Frank needs to know.

"Love you too," he murmurs, then goes about getting the supplies to help Mikey clean up.


End file.
